Ramses awakened before the sun, as was his habit. He bathed in scented water and stretched out on a low table. Even as his hands and feet were being groomed, his body massaged with incense and perfumed oils, he barked orders to scribes and studied the roll of papyrus listing urgent matters. He put his work aside long enough for the barber to shave his head and face and did not blink as a thick line of crushed lead ore was drawn around his eyes. Of all the grooming, this was the most valuable to him since it blocked the sun’s glare and deterred the ever-present hordes of gnats and flies. A squinting pharaoh was not godlike.
The servants’ capable ministrations relaxed Ramses. He allowed himself to consider the preparations for afterlife when he would become Osiris and his son, his heir, would be Horus. He’d design his funerary temple, plan his burial chamber, and have everything in the afterlife kingdom that he had here—except his Nefertari. Unacceptable. The thought of life without Nefertari was no better than eternal death.
He donned a short-sleeve shirt—its snug fit resting easily on his lean frame—and a pleated kilt. A slave wrapped the wide belt around his waist before securing it with the buckle that boasted his cartouche, his name carved in hieroglyphs. He raised his arms to allow gold and silver bracelets to be fastened on his wrists and chose rings to wear for the day.
Additional scented oil was rubbed onto Ramses’s feet. He stepped into his sandals, their upper soles etched with pictures of Egypt’s enemies symbolically crushed with his every step. To honor the morning ceremony, the beard of kingship, a symbol of his virility, was fastened on his chin. He bore the itching stoically.
Lastly, the double crown of a United Egypt was placed on his head and the golden falcon collar was laid on his chest and around his neck.
Ramses strode to the Window of Appearance to formally welcome the day. That completed, he moved to the audience room. He snapped his fingers, and a slave scurried to the temple. Ramses waited for the summoned priest to present himself. He tapped his foot impatiently. Nefertari must be with him in the afterlife. It would be so. He would cause it to be thus by his will and his word.
Life without Nefertari as his Great Royal Wife could not be worth living. He would task the priest with assuring he and his beloved would never be parted. Without doubt, they could find a way for Nefertari to reign with him for eternity.
The high priest, wearing the leopard skin of his office over one shoulder to show his importance, bowed to the ground before his god and sovereign and listened as Ramses ordered changes for the afterlife. Together, they outlined a plan for Nefertari’s eternity.
Ramses studied the papyrus unrolled on the table before him and nodded. The temple at Abydos was indeed the most splendid in all of Egypt. No one could contest that. His father, Seti, had been a gifted builder, especially in his temple designs. Ramses recalled the first time he’d visited Abydos and his delight at viewing the wall listing each of Egypt’s kings. He snickered. The corridor listed all the kings except those who should be forgotten.
Ramses perused the drawing of the Hall of Ancients, built to honor his ancestors. Remarkable concept.
How could he ever surpass this monument? Ramses clasped his hands behind his back. His temple, where he would be worshipped for all eternity once he entered the afterlife to take his place with the other gods, must be unlike any other. He would settle for nothing less than spectacular, unusual magnificence.
He unrolled a map and scrutinized the location of each temple. Karnak, of course, contained the largest temple complex in the world, and the west bank of Wasat hosted numerous shrines and chapels.
Ramses pursed his lips and considered possible solutions. As long as he was buried in Egypt, the temple where he would be worshipped as a god could be elsewhere. Ah, that was a thought worth pursuing.
He scanned the map. Perhaps he could build it in Nubia, south of Aswan. No, that was mountainous terrain. It would be almost impossible to pass the quarried stones through the rapids.
Unless … Ramses toyed with an idea never before accomplished. Had it been attempted? Was it even conceivable? Inconceivable described it perfectly—clearly the idea of a god! Ramses smiled—his temple, standing for all time, impervious to wind and floods, impossible to destroy, carved out of the mountain itself. It would serve as a sentry, a warning to Nubians entering Egypt that he, Ramses, eternally prevailed, a powerful opponent.
He dampened a reed brush, wiped it across the cake of ink, and began to sketch, the design growing more detailed as his excitement mounted. He would enlist the most skilled artisans, experienced stone carvers, and a multitude of slaves to haul away the debris. Ramses calculated the cost of provisions for the artisans. Stone carvers and slaves could be replenished as needed. They did not last long in the heat and rugged conditions.
The temple would be positioned so the sun’s rays reached through to the inner sanctum once a year—on the anniversary of his birth, of course. Work would commence immediately.
With a flick of his hand, Ramses sent for a scribe to write the orders and begin the mobilization of Pharaoh’s dream. A second slave was commanded to bring his beloved Nefertari, the Great Wife, to admire his plan.
Ramses began to draw another temple as he waited for Nefertari. Using quick, strong strokes, he outlined the shape of a temple entrance. To the side, he jotted notes for an inscription direct enough to ensure that all worshippers in this world and those in the next life would understand his devotion to this wife.